A Wrinkle in Time

A Wrinkle in Time
seen @ Alamo Drafthouse, Yonkers NY

Madeleine L'Engle almost gave up writing by age forty on account of all the rejections she kept receiving. The reality of rejection is something I've read about on a few writers blogs: how one has to accept the fact that no matter how spectacular you think your work is, the odds of you hitting a home run with it the first time at bat, or the tenth, are slim at best. Some writers tell you to embrace rejection as a fact of writing life, since it's happened to the best authors as well as the worst.

I haven't written enough to experience rejection to the same degree, partially because much of my work is self-published — including this blog, in a way. I know when I finish revising my novel and sending it out to authors, though (assuming I don't self-publish that too), I'll have to face that reality as well. I'm probably not ready for that, but who ever is?

L'Engle's book A Wrinkle in Time was rejected over thirty times. I cannot imagine what that must be like: to receive a litany of no's yet to keep going anyway. Actually, I take that back, I can imagine that: I suspect it's like going on blind date after blind date and never getting past that initial dinner-and-a-movie stage. You question your self-worth.

One of the wittiest and most heartfelt books about writing is Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. She talks about what she calls "the myth of publication":

...Many nonwriters assume that publication is a thunderously joyous event in the writer's life, and it is certainly the biggest and brightest carrot dangling before the eyes of my students. They believe that if they themselves were to get published, their lives would change instantly, dramatically, and for the better. Their self-esteem would flourish, all self-doubt would be erased like a typo. Entire paragraphs and manuscripts of disappointment and rejection and lack of faith would be wiped out by one push of a psychic delete button and replaced by a quiet, tender sense of worth and belonging. Then they could wrap the world in flame.

But this is not exactly what happens. Or at any rate, this is not what it has been like for me.

L'Engle's path to publication is by no means unique, but it's a textbook example of how a writer needs (justified) faith in their work, even in this time where self-publishing your work is easier than before. My path is probably harder than many: I'm writing a sports novel, not exactly a popular genre — but it's what I want to do. I'll just have to suck up the inevitable rejections when the time comes. But I won't like it.

I never read Wrinkle as a kid. No particular reason; there were lots of books I never got around to in my childhood. Not sure how eight-year-old me would have taken to it, but I imagine the religious elements would've flown over my head — except I'm told there's a scene with Jesus, Buddha, Einstein and Gandhi all together, as a kind of spiritual Justice League.

That did not make the new film adaptation of Wrinkle, needless to say. While I thought it was good, it did have a touchy-feely vibe to it, and knowing of L'Engle's spiritual beliefs now, I can see why, even though much of the religious aspects were expunged for the film.

It reminded me, in part, of The NeverEnding Story. The nebulous force known only as the It (sans red balloons) is a lot like the Nothing, with similar effects — and love is the redemptive counterforce in the end. It's all very earnest, in its way, not that this is necessarily a bad thing.

The best line I read from Ava DuVernay about Wrinkle came when she was asked about opening a month after Black Panther, even though the two films have very little in common besides having black directors. She compared Panther to Michael Jackson's Thriller album and said she'd settle for being Prince's 1999 album, since they both came out in 1982. I thought that was funny. Still, if the reviews are any indication, she may have to settle for being the Rolling Stones' Still Life.

Once again I left my house well over three hours in advance to get to the Alamo Drafthouse in Yonkers, and once again I just barely made it, only this time the trains were to blame. The train that took me into Manhattan totally bypassed the station in which I had to get off because something had happened there; the conductor, of course, didn't specify. I had to get out at the next stop and walk back down 57th Street to take the uptown train to the Boogie Down Bronx — but then that train was delayed two stops from the end of the line for 15-20 minutes due to "signal problems." Have I mentioned how effed up the subways are lately?

Madeleine L'Engle's granddaughters write her biography

Top 5 movie-going moments of 2016

So the most eagerly awaited movie-going moment of the year for me - the grand opening of the Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn - turned out to be less than I had hoped due to the high cost of the theater, at least in comparison to its Yonkers location. I'd be willing to go back there, but it would have to be for something super-special, not on a semi-regular basis as I had hoped. Still, all movie lovers should see a movie at the Alamo at least once. I have no problem recommending it to the uninitiated. Just be prepared to unload some dough.

At any rate, I still had some wonderful moments seeing movies at other venues this year. And here are the best:

5. Spaceballs at Syndicated Bar. Other venues are starting to replicate the Alamo experience, and Syndicated, also in Brooklyn, is one of them. It's a repertory house and not a first-run, but I enjoyed their food and drink, their seats are very comfortable, and they're a whole lot cheaper. Seeing a great movie like Spaceballs with my friend Alicia was the icing on the cake. I hope to go back there this year.

4. Lust for Life on video at Vija's place. If for no other reason than seeing her cat and Chris' dog interact, which was pretty funny. It would've been nicer to have had a DVD that didn't act up, too, but the company and the food more than made up for that. Also, Vija didn't find the DVD at first. I had told her that was okay, I'd watch something else, but she kept on looking until she found an available copy. This is why she has been my friend for over twenty years. I'm so lucky to have her in my life.

3. Nosferatu/Dracula's Daughter at the Loews Jersey City. With Aurora, no less! Halloween at the Loews is always a special time. This wasn't on October 31 exactly, but it was close enough for another huge crowd to turn out for this sweet vampire twin bill.

2. Run Lola Run at Prospect Park. In case it wasn't apparent, none of the versions of the story I told about seeing this movie at Celebrate Brooklyn was 100% accurate. I was aping the storytelling style of the movie itself. The stuff about the music - the musical guest, Joan as Police Woman, and the band live-scoring the film, The Bays - that was true. Most of the time, CB makes excellent choices with the films they show, and this was no exception.

1. Star Trek Beyond in New Paltz with Bibi & Eric. Yeah, this is a pretty easy choice. A Trek movie, during the 50th anniversary year, in a slightly peculiar-shaped theater, outside of NYC, with two of my favorite people in the world. It simply does not get any better than this. And I got to hang out with them three times last year! Highly unusual for us. What luck!

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Previously:
2015 top five
2014 top five
2013 top five
2012 top five
2011 top five

Moonlight

Moonlight
seen @ Alamo Drafthouse, Brooklyn NY

I almost passed on Moonlight. I had read the brief capsule description on the Kew Gardens Theater website and I wasn't completely sold on the film. I figured I'd need to see a trailer before I could decide, but I wasn't in any hurry to see one. Then I saw it was one of the first movies to play at the brand-new Alamo Drafthouse theater in Brooklyn. Eventually I looked the movie up on Rotten Tomatoes and, well, you know the rest. Everyone loves this movie to death, and with good reason.

I was amazed at how director Barry Jenkins was able to build two distinct characters, Chiron and Kevin, out of six different actors in three age groups. One gets the sense of consistency in the performances, especially from the three actors portraying Chiron: the guarded nature, certain head movements.

I was reminded of the three Brionys of Atonement, not to mention the 12-year performance of Ellar Coltrane condensed into the film Boyhood. In each case, consistency was necessary to make the character believable as a single person, stretched out over time. I think Jenkins accomplished that here.

Like Pariah a few years ago, this is a coming-of-age story about growing up black and gay, only from the male instead of the female perspective. I think we've heard the stereotypes about gay black men; how supposedly over the top they act. I'm pretty sure I've never met one, so I can't say if it's true. Fortunately, Moonlight punctures that familiar image and presents a different one, using deft camerawork and subtle storytelling to show us a person, searching for an identity all his own in a world eager to tell him who he ought to be. That much I could relate to, and understand. I found the film riveting from start to finish.

So the Alamo has finally come to the five boroughs after I first shared the news here way back in 2010, the first year of WSW. I couldn't find the theater at first. I knew it was in the vicinity of the Fulton Street Mall, but all the side streets tripped me up at first. When I asked for directions, I accidentally said "Bond Street." It's actually on Gold Street, but there really is a Bond Street in the area. Funny that.

Alamo is on the fourth floor of a mall building with other stuff on the lower floors. I had hoped it would be on street level, but this being New York, that's not always possible. The Shining Overlook Hotel carpeting is a nice touch. All around are posters from what I believe are Turkish movies. Why? I have no idea. I can't say I've heard of any of them. I guess Tim League thinks they're cool. Eh. It's different, if nothing else.

The food was excellent (I had a burger with fries); the service was excellent (an usher actually led me directly to my seat!). The seats were comfy and the bathrooms were nice and clean. That said, I'm not sure how often I'll come back. For one thing, this Alamo is expensive as hell! $14.50 with no Tuesday all-day matinee like at the Yonkers location. I was told the matinee ended at 1 pm. There was a 30% discount on the menu. If there wasn't, I doubt I would've ordered any food. Even the traditional movie theater food was pricey; eight bucks for a popcorn?

Maybe it was there and I didn't see it - which is entirely possible; if so, ignore the following - but when I entered the lobby, I didn't see a board showing films and times. I would think that was standard for any movie theater. I had to ask if Moonlight was playing just to be sure! I should never have to do that in any theater. The Yonkers theater has "now playing" posters hanging outside at least.

Overall, while it looked and felt the way an Alamo should, I was disappointed with it in other ways. I'm part of the Victory program, which does mean you get special discounts and privileges the more you attend (how? I was never issued a membership card), but as expensive as the Brooklyn theater is, I think I may opt to stick to the Yonkers theater, despite the location problems with that place I've talked about before. Special events? We'll see. But I had hoped for a little better.

Purple links

And just when we had gotten over the death of Bowie, this happens. I remember back in  junior high we'd occasionally debate who was better, Prince or Michael Jackson. It was probably an unfair comparison. As awesome as Michael was, he didn't play an instrument, whereas Prince - well, perhaps it'd be easier to list what he couldn't play.

The film career of the Purple One was perhaps a little less distinguished overall, but hey, criticizing him for not being a great actor is kinda like criticizing Mozart because he never wrote a novel. I think I might have seen Under the Cherry Moon at the old video store, but if I did, I certainly don't remember any of it. Anybody out there seen it and wanna defend it? (Or is that asking too much?)

If Purple Rain were the only movie Prince had made, it would've been more than enough. No, it's not perfect by any means, but the music makes it so watchable, and because there's so much of it, and because it's so good, the movie is never dull for long. I'm not sure what you could compare it to: maybe Jailhouse Rock in the sense that it's an acting/singing vehicle for its musician superstar at the peak of his popularity, only Rain is perhaps a bit more personal. I would not be surprised to discover it was an influence on subsequent movies like 8 Mile and maybe even Once.

Prince was an American original, a truly gifted musician who carved his niche upon the pop music landscape and carved it deep.

In happier news, the Alamo Drafthouse is coming to Brooklyn this summer! You have no idea how excited I am at this news. You've already heard me complain about the area surrounding the Yonkers location and the long commute. This will be much closer, and of course, because it's the Alamo, it'll have the same awesome features as the rest of the theaters. This is gonna be epic.

This might not be news to some of you, but I saw it and I thought it odd enough to mention it on Twitter and I thought I'd throw it out here as well. I was in a cafe in Astoria last month that had E.T. playing on a flat screen HD television. This is, as you know, a movie from 1982, and it was shot on 35mm film, long before the digital revolution. Yet, looking at it on this 21st-century ultra-modern television, I could not believe how clear and crisp looking the image was. It was so clear, in fact, that it didn't even look like celluloid. It looked a lot like it was shot on video.

Now the first time I noticed this, I was watching the first Hobbit movie, and at the time I thought, oh, this must be what Peter Jackson's 48-frames-per-second technology must be like. But then I saw that look on TV shows and other movies watched on HD screens as well, and I couldn't get over how odd it made older movies - say, from the early 90s and earlier - look. It makes them not look like film. Camera movements are noticeable that shouldn't be; the grainy texture of celluloid is almost completely lost - I actually thought at first I was watching a TV show parodying E.T. instead of the actual movie.

You'll recall when I wrote about Interstellar, I said I didn't recognize the look of 35mm film at first because I had become so used to seeing imagery from digital technology. This is almost the reverse - and I'm wondering whether or not this is a good thing. So much effort has been expended to save celluloid, to keep it around for the filmmakers who still want to use it, but what use is all that effort if these movies are seen on television screens that blunt the look of film? I dunno; it's just a thought that came to mind recently.

Remember the Cinemart, the local theater I told you about that went back to showing first-run movies after years of being a second-run place? I passed by there recently, and they were closed - but for renovations. Apparently they're doing well enough to install luxury recliner seats. The marquee says the new seats will be ready by the time X-Men: Apocalypse opens there, first-run, later this month. I'm really glad they're progressing. Ever since the Jackson Heights and Sunnyside theaters closed, neighborhood theaters have felt more and more like an endangered species, so it's nice to see this one not only continue to survive, but grow.

Still plenty of time to get in on the Athletes in Film Blogathon with me and Aurora coming up in June. The lineup is looking pretty good.

Your links for this month:

Once again, Ryan has just the right words to eulogize a dead rock star.

Sometimes, as Raquel recently discovered, the right movie comes along at just the right time.

Jacqueline examines classic film fandom in the television age.

Ivan takes a look at the Thin Man TV series.

Ruth sees A Streetcar Named Desire for the first time.

Pam has a story about a German actor raised as a Nazi, but resisted that life.

Here's a highlight from the Beyond the Cover Blogathon: a video review of the movie and book of The Color Purple.

The TCM Film Fest attracts plenty of young people (some of whom I know by reputation).

Hail, Caesar!

Hail, Caesar!
seen @ Alamo Drafthouse, Yonkers, NY

Watching a movie about the making of movies is a little like seeing how hot dogs are made. You may enjoy them, but witnessing the process that goes into how they're made has the potential to take away some of the enjoyment. Sometimes you just wanna surrender yourself to the magic spell they weave while you're watching them. Do you really need to know how Buster Keaton set up that shot where the wall falls on him but he stands where he won't get hurt to appreciate its awesomeness? Is knowing how many takes it took Bogey to say "Here's lookin' at you, kid" make hearing him say it in the finished product any better?

Still, I like plenty of movies about making movies, which is why I felt kinda let down with Hail, Caesar! Don't misunderstand; a half-baked Coen Brothers movie is still superior to 90% of the movies out there, and this one had lots to feast on, especially if you're a fan of Old Hollywood. Seeing modern actors like George Clooney and Scarlett Johansson and Channing Tatum in reasonable facsimiles of studio-era Hollywood movies is a reminder of the great contrast between the kind of movies we loved then and now.

That said, I wish I cared more about these characters. Josh Brolin leads the cast as a studio "fixer," the guy who sweeps potential scandals under the rug and keeps them out of the media, inspired by real-life MGM fixer Eddie Mannix (right down to the name). We see him do stuff like that, and we see him ponder leaving Hollywood for a new career, but none of it, to me, went much deeper than the surface. 

The same goes for the other characters. It was like, okay, here are these actors we love in a 50s Hollywood setting, now let's watch them interact. I accept that not every movie the Coens make is gonna be No Country For Old Men or Fargo; in fact, I appreciate the fact that they're willing to let their hair down every once in awhile and not care about making movies that win Oscars. Still, Caesar didn't seem to have enough meat on its bones for me to be able to take it on its own terms. Also, it wasn't that funny.

I was flush this week, so I thought I'd take a trip back to the Alamo Drafthouse in Yonkers to see Caesar. I left three hours in advance and I still almost missed my showtime - and it's not like I had a lot of delays on the subways or buses. The bus from the 4 train takes longer to get to the Alamo than I remembered. About halfway during the ride, I looked intently out the front window to make sure I didn't miss my stop, and every time I thought I was close, I wasn't there yet.

The Alamo is part of a large strip mall set way back from the puny sidewalk, and there's this giant swath of parking space in between. It's ridiculous. The crosswalks are set fairly far apart on the straight, wide street with all its fast-moving cars. Within the parking lot, there's no safe place to walk until you get to the theater, which might as well be in another zip code. The entire area, not just the mall, is geared for the sole benefit of cars at the expense of people, and the worst part is this is by no means unusual.

And yet, the Alamo is totally worth going through all this trouble. I walked into the auditorium as the trailers played and flipped through the menu. I thought about trying their pizza, but I couldn't decide on which one to pick, and I didn't wanna miss the movie, so I settled on a chicken fingers-and-fries platter, with a glass of their awesome root beer. It was good (fries were a bit stiff though), but once again I marveled at simply being able to order restaurant-style food this way, with a wait staff to discreetly take my order and serve it at my seat as the movie plays. It's such a treat. 

I just wish I could do this more often. A quick glance at the main Alamo website says that the downtown Brooklyn location is "coming soon." It can't come soon enough, in my opinion.

Happy new year from Seth & James

I was thisclose to seeing The Interview. The Kew Gardens Cinemas, I'm proud to say, was one of the many indie theaters nationwide that agreed to show the movie after distributor SONY declined to release it; you all know the story by now. After reading about the film itself, though, and already having a general idea of the kind of humor that stars Seth Rogen and James Franco indulge in, I thought that supporting the right to freedom and free speech may not be that important in this particular case. 

Still, I'm grateful for the fact that I am able to see The Interview if I want to, and we have those indie theater owners to thank for that, in particular the awesome Tim League of the Alamo Drafthouse and his associates in the Art House Convergence. In an age where movie theaters have become less and less necessary to see a film, I find it wonderful that they not only came through for the movie, but that they also helped uphold the rights that America stands for (most of the time). And that's all I got to say about that.

Buy the new issue of Newtown Literary with my short story in it if you haven't already, and let me know what you think of my story after you read it.

The One Year Switch begins on January 5, when WSW will spend 2015 as a classic film blog. I hope you'll join me for this experiment. We'll have some fun and I think you and me both will learn a few things as well. Happy new year.

The Wind Rises

The Wind Rises
seen @ Alamo Drafthouse Yonkers, Yonkers NY
3.11.14

Even if you don't live in Texas (I don't), chances are that if you follow film at all, at some point you've heard of the Alamo Drafthouse chain of theaters. Simply put, they are the model by which all modern movie theaters should be judged. A lot has changed in the way we watch movies these days - Netflix, online streaming, video on demand; these have all become viable and profitable options when it comes to watching movies. For those of us who still prefer going to a theater and seeing a movie with a crowd, it's fair to say that nobody does it better than the Alamo. I've read about it, and now, I can finally say I've experienced it firsthand.

Next year, an Alamo theater will open in downtown Brooklyn, but for now, the closest one near me is the one in Yonkers, up in Westchester County. From where I live, it's a long trip: a bus to the subway to another bus, though I saved a little by walking to the subway. The 4 train, like its Lexington Avenue-line brothers the 5 and 6, traverses up the east side of Manhattan and deep into the Boogie Down Bronx, passing Y-nk-- Stadium along the way. It was the first time I had seen the new ballpark. I suppose it looks impressive enough, though it's not like I've been there very often.

Of course, once I got off the train, I took the wrong bus (actually, it was the right bus; it just didn't go as far as I needed it to) and got off at the wrong stop. I can't remember the last time I had been to Yonkers. I think it may have been back in my college days. I remember going to see Star Trek VI on opening night with friends in Yonkers, though where exactly, I couldn't tell you. It was dark and rainy and we had driven up there.

Anyway, from the outside, the Yonkers Alamo looks like any other theater in a strip mall, until you go inside. For one thing, there are the posters: reinterpretations of classic and contemporary movie posters with magnificent art, all of them much more imaginative and creative than the ones you normally see. 

Then there's something very peculiar: they have a re-creation of the bomb from the climax of the movie Dr. Strangelove - the one Slim Pickens giddily rides on the way down to destruction - and apparently you can climb on board it and have your picture taken on it. It even comes with a replica of the hat Pickens wore. I think all the Alamo theaters have something like this. If I had been with someone else, I suppose I would've had my picture taken, but I didn't, so I didn't. (And no, it didn't occur to me to use my cellphone to take a "selfie.")

The movie I saw was The Wind Rises, an animated film based on the true story of the Japanese guy who invented the zero wing airplane. The Alamo did something clever: before the film, they played videos and shorts related to it. (I assume they do this sort of thing for all their films.) They played WW2 newsreels, old footage of attempts to create flying machines, videos of Wind director Hayao Miyazaki, even a Simpsons clip that was an homage to the films of Miyazaki. Needless to say, all of this was much more entertaining than your average edition of "The 20."

Perhaps you've heard about how the Alamo offers restaurant-quality food in addition to traditional theater snacks. When you go into the auditorium, the aisles of seats each come with long shelves in front of them, on which you can eat, and underneath them are the menus. There are ushers who double as waiters, and you write down your order on a piece of paper, position it upright in a slot on the shelf in front of you, and that's how they take your order. The emphasis is on quiet, since you can do this during the movie as well as before it, though that wasn't an issue on Tuesday; it was a tiny crowd. I had a burger called a "royale with cheese," just like out of Pulp Fiction, with fries and a root beer, and it was great, though expensive. I think next time I may settle for an appetizer. Did I mention that the waiters here also expect tips?

And then, of course, there's perhaps the Alamo's most well-known element - their zero-tolerance policy on talking and texting. Again, it wasn't an issue on Tuesday because there were so few people, but I still got to see it in action: slides and video clips remind the audience - humorously but firmly - that if you talk or text during the film, you get a warning first, and then an ejection with no refund. I had read about this, of course, even wrote about it here, but actually seeing it for the first time, and knowing that the Alamo cares enough to enforce this policy, was a quite unusual feeling.

So that's what going to the Alamo is like. I also copped an issue of their in-house magazine Birth Movies Death, which had articles about the monthly features and current movies playing at the Alamo. I think if when I go again, I'd like to go for one of their special events, but again, getting there is a long trip. Still, I'm familiar with it now, so it won't be as intimidating... and I'll know which bus to get on!

As for the movie itself, well, I thought it was okay, but the problem I had with it was that it seemed a bit too rosy-colored. Jiro Horikoshi, the main character, keeps saying throughout the story that all he wants to do is make awesome planes for his country, yet he must have known that they would be used as weapons of war. There's some talk about Japan's political and economic situation leading up to WW2, but the war itself seems far away. Hitler is mentioned only once. And the second half of the story is dominated by Jiro's relationship with his girlfriend-turned-wife Nahoko and her illness. There wasn't enough war-related material to suit me, and I felt like there should have been.

Gravitational links

October is sure to be an exciting month. Lot of potential Oscar-caliber movies will unfurl for the people, and while some may think the race is already over thanks to Twelve Years a Slave, well, all I can say to that is a lot of people thought the race was over with The Social Network a couple of years ago, and look what happened. I may not be any kind of Oscar prognosticator, but I know this much: the Academy will pick what it likes regardless of what the media or the public or anybody else says they should pick. Once in awhile the picks line up, but most of the time, they don't, and picking the winner in September is about as foolish a thing as you can ever do when it comes to the Oscars. Sit back and relax. We got a long way to go until February.

Raquel suggests ten ways to get more out of reading classic film-related books.

Pam drops ten little-known facts about Golden Age film icon Mae West.

TCM is holding a contest where you can host a movie with Robert Osbourne - and Will has advice on how to win.

Courtney ponders how parenthood has changed his movie-viewing habits.

Retrospace teases you some images of carefully concealed nudity in movies (which should still be considered NSFW).

Remember the great Rocky II training montage? Well, somebody figured out where in the streets of Philadelphia he runs and for how long, and now people are gonna duplicate that run.

Finally, the Alamo Drafthouse has announced that they're no longer coming to Manhattan. (They are still coming to Brooklyn, though, and they're already in Yonkers.)

My dream movie theater

My initial impulse would be to take the Jackson and renovate it. (This is all, of course, assuming money is not an issue.) That place has many of the elements I would want in a movie theater: it's small (three screens), it's easily accessible to public transportation, it has an old-fashioned marquee where one can see everything that's playing at a glance. I wonder, however, whether or not it's too small. I might prefer something more like the Drexel - a stylish Art Deco look, with a few more screens, plus the adjoining cafe next door. (The Jackson did recently acquire new owners, and this post is not meant as a knock to them.)

A combination of the two, then, assuming this theoretical theater will be in Queens. Jackson Heights would be a good place to base it - centrally located within the borough, lots of buses and trains all around, plenty of commercial business - but Astoria would put it much closer to Manhattan, not to mention the proximity to the Museum of the Moving Image. Not sure which neighborhood I'd go with.


If I were to stick with Jackson Heights, I'd try to make it more like the Drexel. Three screens is fine, at least in the beginning. If it were possible, I'd try to find a way to have a connected cafe next door that serves Spanish and Indian foods, in addition to traditional coffee shop fare, as a means of catering to the local cultures that dominate the neighborhood. Like the Drexel, one could walk to this cafe from inside the theater after seeing the movie. It would have free WiFi, of course, and would be decorated with movie-related art and movie posters from around the world.

In my advertising, I would place a heavy emphasis on using public transportation to get to the theater. The Drexel has a small parking lot in the back, which is the best place to put a parking lot in a neighborhood like Bexley, where only one city bus goes to the theater and there's no subway. JH is much more dense, and the 7 train literally drops you off within a single block of the theater. I would naturally put a bike rack on the sidewalk in front, just like the Drexel.

One of the most appealing aspects of the Jackson is how the center auditorium is done up very fancily, like that of an old movie palace, with decorative columns, carpeting, a chandelier, the works. (The other two screening rooms are plainer.) I would keep this as is, and I might even sell it a little bit further by giving it a name (not sure what - I'd probably name it after a director or actor) and laying out a bright red carpet from the entrance to the box office.

No matter which neighborhood this theater would be in, I'd follow the example set by Tim League and the Alamo Drafthouse in terms of controlling audience behavior, which means I'd have ushers on staff. I probably wouldn't need more than two, maybe three, for evening shows and weekends only, but they'd be there, and I'd fully empower them to deal with cellphone talkers and mothers with crying babies and rowdy teenagers the same way the Alamo does - and I'd be completely upfront about it with the customers.

As far as programming goes, I'd do my best to provide a wide variety of material, Hollywood and independent, foreign and domestic, classics and new stuff. At least half of my films would have to be the high-profile Hollywood new releases because duh, they're moneymakers. I'd try to get a sense of what the customers like and cater to that as much as possible, but at the same time I wouldn't be afraid to share my personal tastes with them as well. I'd host film festivals and midnight movies, naturally, and I'd attract local filmmakers to premiere their movies at my theater, but I'd also try to educate the audiences on film in general: what constitutes a good movie, and what movies from the past can teach us today. To that end, I'd have a kind of critic-in-residence program, where every month a local film reviewer or blogger would program a few movies of his or her choosing and have a Q-and-A afterwards to talk about them.


I'd also try to work with the local businesses and get some cross-promotional stuff going on. If a new release can be tied in some way to a neighborhood store or restaurant, I might find a way to use it as an opportunity to promote that business. For instance, if people were to see Captain America and there was a comic book shop in the area, they could take their used ticket stub to the shop and save ten percent on their next purchase of a graphic novel. Something along those lines, with an emphasis on local, neighborhood businesses whenever possible.


Most of all, I would foster an atmosphere of fun and good times for everybody who comes. I'd get to know my audience personally so we can share ideas on film. And I'd constantly try new stuff to not only see what works, but to keep things lively. Would you go to such a theater?

Thank you, Alamo Drafthouse, for giving a damn

...If there is a loud group of patrons in the theater disrupting the show, a customer can raise an order card to alert staff to the problem. The complaint is delivered right away to management who then comes into the theater to listen and identify the talkers. If they hear talking, they issue a warning, something to the effect of “we have had complaints from the other customers, if we receive one more complaint, we will have to ask you to leave.” If there is a second complaint, the manager again enters the theater and waits to hear talking. If they do hear talking again from the same group, we kick them out. That’s been the system for a long time, and we have quieted and/or kicked out hundreds of groups over the years for being disruptive.
Upon reflection of our failure to quiet the group of talkers on last Friday, however, I am hereby changing the policy company-wide.

A few weeks ago I offered some suggestions for improving the movie theater experience, and look at this - a little over a week later comes this statement from the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, Texas, who not only already has a policy against excessive talking in the theater (which presumably would also include cellphone use, as I wrote about), but they plan to improve on it. I've never been to Austin, but I hope to go one day just so I can see a movie at one of their wonderful theaters.
This comes at around the same time as the news that the studios are interested in capitalizing on the video-on-demand system by offering first-run films a mere 60 days after their theatrical release. Naturally, the theater owners (and some filmmakers) are less than thrilled at the prospect. They should be. This is nothing more than a cash grab by the studios that does not address the fundamental problems I discussed weeks ago - problems that, as we see, can be overcome with just a little bit of care and attention.
I've said that if I had the option, I'd probably watch a first-run movie in the comfort of my own home with all the tricked-out extras... but I would not want to do it all the time! Especially not if there were more theaters like the Drafthouse around who are willing to go the extra length to ensure a great night out at the movies. This proposed VOD program would cut into the livelihood of the first-run theaters, so it's good to know that the theaters are fighting back, but the Drafthouse's example proves that there's still more that they can and should do.
Thoughts?
Update 4.13.11: Proving once again that great minds think alike, here's another post addressing the moviegoing experience, questioning whether or not it's even necessary.

Alamo Drafthouse coming to New York?

...There’s so much going on culturally, both with the media and what’s showing but within the film world itself, there isn’t anyone else doing exactly what we’re doing. I totally respect places like the Film Forum but we aim to complement everything that’s going on and have our own special place.

Also:
- TCM to air restored Metropolis next month. (UPI)
- Concept images and artwork for Toy Story 3. (Cinematical)
- In appreciation of older women on the big screen. (Guardian)
- A look at the modern day Black List and why screenwriters want to be on it. (Austin 360)